#AmericanWriters
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!
I found the phrase to every though… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun To races nurtured in the dark;—
545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
638 To my small Hearth His fire came— And all my House aglow Did fan and rock, with sudden ligh… ’Twas Sunrise—'twas the Sky—
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
703 Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird—reach it! Curve by Curve—Sweep by Sweep— Round the Steep Air—
69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—